The street is all mine
So I follow the waxing moon
A glowing egg in its darkening firmament
Bowling downhill
Passing the neat and tidy suburban lawns
The screens flickering in bedrooms and living rooms
Dodging the cars that mount the pavements
The street is still mine
So I turn the corner
The moon on the outside lane
The lilac here so fragrant
The tiny cherries so filled with promise
Strangers in my house
The gradient beckoning me on
The park is all mine
Though the odour of marijuana lingers
The moon now in pursuit
The geese retired for the evening
The joggers soaking in their bathtubs
The dog-walkers safely back in their kennels
The grass gently yielding beneath my feet
The street is again mine
So I follow the bend
The moon hard on my shoulder
Past the new houses with their straight lines
Cutting the twilight with a sharp blade
Along the sleepy leasow
Homeward bound
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